Brain. Moving. Slowly

Woke up on Friday at 6:30 am East Coast time. Went to bed at 1:00 am West Coast time. Kid woke me up Saturday morning, ready to party at 5:30 am West Coast time. Been awake for 24 of the last 28 hours. I'm just sayin'.

Loved, loved, loved the time with the cousins. My brain is not functioning well enough to write about it in essay form, but I'll throw in a few of my favorite moments:

Tons of pool time, with lots of water gun battles. Yesterday we spent the morning in the pool, which culminated in an East Coast/West Coast family water polo showdown.



Walking through the temple with Tony. It's about twice as big as last time we were there, and more impressive than ever. Luke was honored that Tony took a moment to open up the Torah for him.



The nighttime glowstick birthday party for Eli. He will turn three next week so we took the opportunity to have some cake and candles and general mayhem. None of the kids opposed the idea.






A hard-fought father/son chess battle. Very, very serious. Please do not disturb them while they are playing chess. And eating chips.




A lovely Thanksgiving dinner with Neil and Charlotte. This gave Zach his long-sought-after opportunity to eat "turkey with bones."




Gathering 'round to watch Tony open the coconut the boys had found. Moments after Tony got it open and the boys had a chance to sample the coconut juice, we were on the road headed back to the airport. It was so sad to leave, but it was a great finale. In fact, I think all vacations should end with a ceremonial bashing of a coconut. Thank you, thank you, thank you to our Florida family for a smashingly good time.


Today we are busy as all get-out as we attempt to unpack and then get ourselves ready for the next season. I told Luke, "Today I think we are going to put up a 'C.T.'"

Luke: "What does 'C.T.' stand for?"
Me: "I'll give you a hint: The 'T' stands for 'tree.' Today we are going to put up a 'C. Tree.'"
Luke ponders this for a moment, then says, "Conifer?"

The reason for the season

Luke: "Zach, what do you like best about Thanksgiving?"
Zach: "Uhhh...the trick-or-treating."
Luke: "No - that's Halloween. What do you like best about Thanksgiving?"
Zach: "Oh - opening presents!"

Headspin

I'm feeling a little dizzy right now. Last I knew I was in California. Then I went hurtling through space in a Southeastern direction, landed in Orlando and somehow found myself whipping at high speeds through Hogwarts castle. Next thing I know I'm at Tony and Joanna's house. What time is it, by the way?

We are on our Florida trip, and it is happening pretty darn fast. But it's fast in a good way, in everyone's opinion, except for Luke who is already mad that it's not going to be longer. As we headed out on our fantastic Virgin Airlines flight, Dave used the text feature to send a giddy message to me from the row behind: "This may be our best vacation this year!"

Luke and I spent the first day at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, or should I say waiting in line there. I'll sum it up with the amount of time spent in each line. Getting in the front gate of Islands of Adventure (10 minutes); waiting for timed entry passes to Harry Potter (10 minutes); waiting at the front entrance of Harry Potter (10 minutes); waiting at Olivander's wand shop (65 minutes); waiting at Honeyduke's candy store (20 minutes); waiting at Three Broomsticks for lunch and $10 butterbeers (60 minutes). After lunch I didn't think I had the stomach to wait in line again - and we hadn't even gone on any rides. But the castle beckoned and the sign said the line was "only" 75 minutes, so we decided to do it. The line zoomed right along and after about 30 minutes we happily entered the castle and gleefully watched the portraits talking to us in each room.

Then came the ride portion of the castle. I had assured Luke that there would be some turning and dipping (he is frightened of even the most gentle roller coasters) but it would be a fun way to see the castle. They strapped us into our chairs and - FOOM! What followed was the single most terrifying six minutes of my life with Luke. We were whipped, twisted, and catapulted through a 3-D scene of dementors and skeletons chasing us and flying through the air on broomsticks. (Oh - so THAT's why you have to be over four feet tall, not pregnant, in perfect health, and not over 260 pounds to go on this ride) I was holding Luke's hand but the scene was so loud and our heads were strapped into dividers so I couldn't talk to Luke or even check in with him to make sure he was OK. At a certain point, I didn't know whether I was more scared of the ride or more worried for Luke. But then it was done and, even though he declared he never wanted to do it again, he was fine, no tears. Just guilt for me.

Meantime Dave and Zach were having a rollicking good time at the water park where we stayed, and even after Luke and I dragged ourselves back from Harry Potter, Dave and Zach continued to go down the waterslides again and again and again.

Three hours after they dried off, we arrived at Tony and Joanna's house and we have been soaking up the Florida sun ever since then. The boys have been busy with toys, video games, and pool time; and last night we participated in an annual Florida Thanksgiving-Eve tradition: Dinner at the Deli. Then, even though we got home late, we had an impromptu birthday party for Eli out on the back patio. The boys blew party streamers and waved glowsticks in the air, and I took pictures that were so blurry they were dizzying. Kind of like this trip.

In the interim

It's strange, I just don't have that much to say at the moment. Let me run through the repertoire: Amusing kid quotes? Not really. Sardonic life observations? Nah. Self-deprecating it's-so-hard-to-be-a-parent stories? Nope.

My creative brain has basically shut down the blog portion of its operations while I work on our holiday card and on the family photo books. Let me just say that we have had some great times this year, and everyone looks incredibly handsome in book form. (These are two of the pictures a friend of mine took at a beach photo shoot she did for us.)

Now can I have some peace and quiet around here please?

Nick of Time

"Downtown Train Departs in 2 Minutes," read the digital sign near the baggage claim at the Portland airport. Dave was fiddling with the buttons on the ticket machine; the boys and I had assumed ready-to-run positions with our luggage. A pleasant attendant approached and helped Dave assess where we were going and how much it would cost to get downtown. "Downtown Train Departs in 1 Minute," the sign seemed to nag at us, heightening our anxiety. Plunk! The tickets dropped out of the machine. And - GO!!!!!! We dashed off through the airport exit, across the drop-off zone, and over to the tracks. And at the very second our feet touched the floor inside the train, we heard a *ding!* and then the automated voice, "Doors closing!"

That, folks, is what it is like to be Dave. Things just ...work out, albeit in hair-raising, last-minute fashion.

So Portland was beautiful, the weather was astonishingly perfect, there were these cool bubbly water fountains on every corner, and we got around without ever once setting foot in an (energy-wasting) automobile. Luke and Zach both had an opportunity to collect leaves and sticks in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. Oh, and the train and bus system was so efficient that on Wednesday we even decided to stay downtown until 1:30 (for a 3:15 return flight) just because we knew we could count on the train to drop us back off at the airport in a timely fashion. But then again, that's Dave.

Of course one of the highlights was having a room connected to Grandma Joan and Papa; an unexpected benefit was meeting Dad's friend Rich, who is essentially his long-lost brother. Kind of like having an extra Papa around - beard, twinkly eyes, liberal politics, and all.

We won't dwell much on the election except to say that the returns were somewhat expected. While the men-folk were off enjoying Portland wine and political conversation at the election parties, Mom and I took the kids out for ice cream. Strangely enough, by 8 pm the Ben and Jerry's was closed, so we wandered around looking for something - anything - sweet, and finally wound up at a McDonald's. The only notable thing here was that while Luke was looking around the place suspiciously ("My friend Shane says that McDonald's doesn't care if people die!") Zach got busy with his chocolate-dipped cone and declared, "This is the best ice cream EVER!"

Clearly the trip made an impression on Zach because the next day he was inspired to narrate a story to his teacher, who wrote it down in book format:

The Hotel Room, by Zach.
There are two hotel rooms. One with Grandma and Papa and one with me. The alarm went off. There are alarms on the box. I ate a chocolate chip muffin.

Yep, that pretty much sums up the trip with the perfect blend of fiction and non-fiction. Except he didn't mention anything about running to catch the train. Maybe in his book that's just a given.

(Walk) Street Urchins

Another Halloween come and gone, and as exhaustion slowly takes over where the sugar coma left off, the kids are now in bed, with visions of Kit-Kats dancing in their heads. First up we have a Death Eater (from Harry Potter) and you have to admit, even if he doesn't eat food like the rest of us, he sure didn't miss anything in the looks department. The mask that came with the costume was super-scary, but it was also uncomfortable, so fortunately we got to see more of his face than the mask. Luke's best friend Shane dressed up as Harry Potter, and Shane's brother Ty went as a Dementor, so as they trick-or-treated they were like three little black caped shadows darting through the night.

Zach has had quite the week of publicity, if you count his making the semi-finals in the pumpkin race, and subsequently being featured in the local paper with his cat pumpkin named Milo. Also, if you haven't already been bombarded by my emails, you know that Zach asked for, and is very proud of, his water heater costume. I entered him into the costume contest at our local mall, and if you haven't voted for him yet, or only voted for him once, please do so again at Manhattan Village (under the contest tab). Apparently you can vote once every 24 hours until November 4, which lots of other parents seem to be doing, because Zach was way down in the voting last I checked. Now I don't care so much about winning, but it would really bum me out to have some other kid with a mass-produced costume win the costume contest. As my sister indignantly put it, "You can't enter a costume contest if you bought it from the store!"

Last night at the appointed hour Zach decided that he would rather be a cat for trick-or-treating purposes, which was fine with me because the water heater costume is a little restrictive and he was going to need to do a lot of walking and step-climbing. With cat and Death Eater in tow, we headed out to the circus that is the walk streets. Each year we've done this it seems to get more crowded, but it also seems to get more manageable as the boys get a little older and we know more friends who live on those streets. This time we were able to get a little respite by darting into a few houses where the real action (read: private parties with cupcakes for the kids and wine for the grownups) was going on.

Zach was just about the happiest cat in the world, tripping down the street with treat bag in hand. "Truck or treat!" he would call out proudly at each house. Then, after he received said treat, he would say, "Happy Halloween!" with a heart-melting smile. At some point when his bag was almost too heavy for him to carry, he declared, "I am a treat machine!" Too true. Now for the aftermath...

Passing storm

On Tuesday I was in one big storm cloud of a mood. In fact I'm pretty sure there was an actual black cloud hovering over my head as I made it through the day. One thing that made matters worse was that a friend who I was hoping could help me with Luke that afternoon was actually in Hawaii for the week (I had the wrong week in mind). She signed her cheerfully apologetic email to me, "Aloha!" Darn.

Dave was gone, and as we talked on the phone that night, I was flopped down in the bed, exhausted from making breakfasts and lunches, working all day, making dinners, giving baths, and then cleaning up the collateral damage. Meantime Dave was telling me about what a nice German restaurant they went to in Portland that night. Oh, and then Zach woke me up in the middle of the night for some unknown reason. So you can see what direction things were going in.

But then somehow, I turned it around. On Wednesday Luke and I had signed up to volunteer for Beautification Day on campus at the school. It was hot by our standards (mid-70s) and the sun was beating down. The weeds were plentiful and scratchy, and the garden was matted with a year's worth of overgrowth. But somehow, between the friends and the frozen juice boxes that we kept ferrying over from our house, we had a great time doing some tough physical labor. There seemed to be something cleansing about the whole experience, dirt notwithstanding. In fact, Luke told me that it was his favorite part of the day. This afternoon, as we stopped by "our" little garden patch on the way home from school, I heard him cheering on the little flowers he planted: "Grow! Grow, little plant! Grow!"

Zach knows that his name starts with "Z" and he is obsessed with finding the letter "Z" anywhere he can So the other day I asked him, "Do you want to draw the letter Z?" and before I even had a chance to draw one for him, he grabbed a piece of paper and painstakingly made these two Zs. His first Zs. Not bad, eh? I have been keeping this paper in my room because it makes me smile every time I look at it. I think I might need to frame it.

Last night the boys and I were on our own again so we decided to carve our pumpkins. Then, when it got dark, we set them outside with these special battery-powered candles in them. The candles don't have an on/off switch; they light up once you put the batteries in, so I knew we wouldn't be able to leave them on forever. But we decided to keep them outside as a little greeting, and maybe Dave would see them when he got home.

A little after 10 pm, Dave got home from Portland and rushed in with a big smile. "I saw the pumpkins you left out for me - I love them!" Great, I said, now will you do me a favor and go back out there and take the batteries out of the candles? "I already took care of that," he said. "The candles are in the hallway." How do you like that? Even with suitcase and briefcase in hand, he still stops to reach his hand into the bowels of the pumpkin to save the 9-volt battery. This is a man who has his priorities straight.

Now comes even better news: He cleans up messes too - both literal and figurative. Dave and I have been working on a rag-tag plan to bring the family up to Portland for election night. (My parents are going to be there too, for different reasons.) Earlier in the week, an "angel" volunteered to give us the miles to fly up there. A nail-biting few days ensued, as we waited to find out if we could book the flights we wanted, and if we could get into the same hotel as my parents. Foolishly, I decided to wait until we got the flights before booking the hotel. And this morning, when we got the flights, I went to book the hotel room and...completely sold out, according to the hotel and every available online service. Gaggghh.

Now this is the point at which mere mortals like myself would call it quits. But Dave took matters into his own hands. And sure enough, within a matter of hours, he called me back. "How does 'We're booked at the hotel, in a room next to your parents,' sound to you?"

Sigh. My hero. Who needs Hawaii when I have sunshine here, all year round?

Can't wait to see what happens next

Lots of stuff about Zach recently; what can I say? He's infinitely cute and funny. But don't think for a second that there's anything less interesting or fun about Luke. Tonight, for instance, he and Dave and I were high-fiving like crazy because they finally finished all 341 pages of the second Harry Potter book (Chamber of Secrets).

This week, as Student of the Week, Luke had to ask us (me and Dave) to write a letter about all of the things that were special about him. Then he brought the letter to school and the teacher read it out loud as he sat in a special chair in front of the class. Did he have a great time listening to the letter? Did he ever. Did I have a great time writing it? Yup:

"Ever since he was a tiny kid, Luke has always been a thinker. He loves to try to build things, fix things, solve problems, and ask lots and lots of questions.

"One of Luke’s favorite things in the world is Legos. He has an amazing ability to take a pile of bricks and turn them into the most incredible creations. Over the summer he saved up all his money to buy the Venator Class Republic Attack Cruiser, a Star Wars Lego set with 1,170 pieces, and he built it all himself.

"When Luke is not building Legos, you can almost always find him curled up with a good book. He loved the Captain Underpants books and the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books, and now we are reading the Harry Potter books with him. He has always been fascinated by magic, and he loves to carry out spells and create potions. He made up a special potion that has the longest, craziest name in the world – you should ask him sometime to tell you the word.

"Luke is very interested in science and he loves looking at rocks, especially crystals. He can tell you the name of just about any kind of crystal. One of his favorite parts of our summer vacation was when we went mining for gold. He was very good at sifting through all of the dirt and mud and finding the little tiny nuggets.

"If you ask Luke what he wants to be when he grows up, he will probably tell you he wants to be a billionaire. Luke loves doing math problems – even in his head – and is very good at saving money and thinking of new ways to make money. This summer he had four different drink sales down on the Strand. He bought all of his own supplies and he made almost $100 selling cold drinks on hot days. He is already thinking of new strategies for making money next summer.

"Luke loves hanging out with his friends and playing with his DS, or else running around and playing Star Wars games or creating potions. He loves being on a soccer team and a t-ball team because his dad is the coach. When he’s with his mom, he loves to cook fancy meals in the kitchen and pretend he is a chef running his own restaurant. At the end of the day, he loves watching movies or baseball with his mom and dad.

"Luke also has a little brother, Zach, who is 3 ½. Luke loves to teach Zach new things, and he can’t wait until Zach is a little bit older so they can play DS together. For now, they love to swim, go to the beach, and build Legos together.

"Luke is a great kid who is affectionate, sweet, and a lot of fun to be around. We love watching him learn and grow every day, and we can’t wait to see what he is going to do next.

"Love,

Mom and Dad"

Lost in Wonderland

A.k.a. the water heater aisle at Home Depot.

Half-time

For the past 24 hours I've been telling Zach that today is going to be his half-birthday, he is going to be 3 1/2, and we are going to have a little cake to celebrate. It wasn't until mid-afternoon that I realized - wait a minute - today isn't the 23rd; it's only the 22nd! Calendar FAIL. But we're not going to get started with that again.

The real story is that I had a secret cake plan up my sleeve. I knew I was going in to the office today (Friday), I knew there would be a big multi-birthday celebration, I knew there would be a huge cake with lots of leftovers, and I knew I would be bringing some home for the boys. So I promised Zach that after dinner we would have "something with frosting" to celebrate his little day.

Sure enough, I came home this afternoon with a big plate of leftover cake in hand - carrot cake with cream cheese icing, as it turns out.

But Zach seems to have had other ideas. When he and I went to Trader Joe's to pick up some milk just before dinner, he happened to notice a big display with some fancy Trader Joe's chocolate cake mix. "Mom - I think we should buy this cake!" he announced. "I think this will be my 'Happy Half Birthday' cake!"

Well, er, em...I hemmed and hawed. I did have a big plate of cake at home already. But it was carrot cake. And it was left over from someone else's birthday. And (truth be told, this did cross my mind) we have done some mighty fancy half-birthday parties for Luke in the past.

So I caved. I bought the chocolate cake mix. And you have never seen a happier boy in your life. He insisted on carrying the box in his hand, not the shopping bag. He carried the box in his lap all the way home. He held onto the box while I read him a book. ("Mom, this is my 'Happy Half Birthday' cake!")

What else was there to do? He and I made the cake together, along with some frosting (from scratch), and we turned our back on the carrot cake altogether (I think it is bound for the freezer).

In the interest of time, I didn't wait for the chocolate cake to cool off before frosting it, so the effect was something akin to those chocolate lava cakes that are so popular now - a piping hot cake with a gooey, melting chocolate topping. And it was huge - easily enough for a party of 20.

Zach loved it. And he was proud of it - because it was really his. I might be going out on a limb here, but I'm going to say I think this was his happiest half birthday EVER.

My chocolate man, my little chef. Three and a half years has just made me want more and more.

That was then

Travel Town train, February 2007: A cold and overcast day. Luke had just turned three; I was six months pregnant. Luke was into tools, guitars, and the vending machine. I was focused on spending quality time with Luke and possibly heading out to buy some more maternity clothes. I had no way of knowing that this was my last weekend out in the world before heading to the hospital. In fact, this picture never made it onto the blog - Dave had to upload it while I was in the hospital so he could print out some pictures for me. I remember that this was one of the most difficult pictures for me to look at because it reminded me of my last days of free-wheeling fun with Luke. I just had no idea what was ahead.

Travel Town train, October 2010: A cold and overcast day. Zach is almost three and a half; Luke is in first grade; I'm older and possibly wiser and definitely more tired. Zach is into trains, cats, and hot water heaters; he's wearing his cat costume. I'm enjoying some quality time with my littlest guy on my day off from work . Is there some big change lurking on the horizon? Who can ever know? But we had a great time, and this time I was able to put the picture on the blog.

At our Tuesday night class, Zach likes to walk around the exterior of the school building and point out all of the "alarms" (mostly intercoms and/or speakers). Today we passed a small metal box mounted on the outside wall.
Me: "Zach, do you think that is another alarm?"
Zach: (exasperated sigh) "No, mom, that's a tankless water heater."

Still spinning

We did it - we pulled off one of the most logistically complex weekends in recent memory. Wanna get a little dizzy? Get a load of this:

Friday night: I scramble to get Fun Food Saturday cooking and story done, then drive Juana to the train station, and take Luke and Zach to Luke's soccer practice. Meanwhile Dave is in Portland and arrives home after the boys are in bed.
Saturday morning: 9 am soccer game; then the boys and I go the the harvest festival while Dave gets work done.
Saturday afternoon: Quick packing job; then we all head to the hotel in Long Beach. I watch the boys while Dave goes to the marathon expo; then I head back home to the 60's-themed parent party for our school (I'm working the front desk at the 5:45 shift). Dave takes the boys out to dinner and then to the Queen Mary. After the party is over, I drive all the way back down to Long Beach to stay in the hotel. (FYI - at left is the marathon logo, as rendered in sand.)
Sunday morning: Dave dashes out to the starting line at 7; I drag the boys to the 6-mile mark at 8 am; the boys and I go out to breakfast; we hop in the car and meet Dave at the 16- and 20- mile marks; we hop back in the car and get to the finish line; and finally we all congregate with Suzi and Bill at the finish line.
Sunday afternoon: Boys hop in the hot tub; we scramble to check out; then we all drive home.

Did you get that? Was it clear that Dave ran a marathon in there somewhere? It's been quite a weekend. My eyes are kind of doing that cartoon thing where they both spin around in different directions. In fact, if we were rendered in cartoon form, the boys and I would have tiny stars and squiggly lines hovering over our heads; and Dave would be hobbling around with little lines of pain and heat radiating out from his legs. All in good fun, of course.

Parenting FAIL

I suppose since I've been taking parenting classes for the past six years, and since the class gives us access to a parenting "coach," who has a library stocked full of reference books for just about every kind of problem, a person might assume that I never make any parenting mistakes.

It's OK, you can laugh. I'll wait.

Tap, tap.

No really, I'll wait until you're finished.

Do you need a tissue?

So anyway, my most recent mega fail came earlier this week, as I set out with the boys for a trip to the organic farm for pumpkin and vegetable picking. As we were leaving, Zach was having a little issue about who knows what and he wouldn't get his shoes, so I carried him to the car with socks on. Then when we were halfway out of town I realized I had never packed his shoes. Luckily, I have a pair of backup shoes in the trunk so I didn't worry. It was only once we got to the farm, 35 miles away, that I realized we hadn't used those shoes for at least six months, and they looked suspiciously small for his big feet. So I did what any under-prepared parent would do: I pushed them on. And when they wouldn't fit over the socks, I took off his shoes and pushed and pushed and squeezed them on his bare feet.

At some point after the wagon ride and the pumpkin-picking, he started to complain that his feet hurt. But we plodded along and finished the vegetable picking anyway. Then we finally got back to the car and I pried the shoes off his feet. He had big blisters at the back of each heel - and that was just the beginning of the pain. The blisters got worse throughout the day, and now they are ragged and ugly and painful. He won't let anyone near them even to apply a band-aid, so he's been reduced to wearing his Crocs back-less (like clogs) all week. Ouch. Apparel FAIL.

Anyhow, Luke loved the vegetable picking (and eating) and he practically had to be dragged away from the fields. We came home with an enormous bag filled with dirt-covered green onions, radishes, green beans, and carrots. He decided that we should have an giant vegetable feast for dinner. And while the two of us washed, scrubbed, and peeled, what was Zach doing? He got impatient waiting for the organic feast to come together, so he stripped off his clothes (not sure I understand that part), planted himself in front of the refrigerator, and started eating cold breakfast sausages. Child nutrition FAIL.

Oh, and after all that, I asked Zach what was his favorite part of being at the farm. "Watching the goats poop," was his response. Perspective FAIL.

On Wednesday morning we were all enjoying a nice morning at home, and at 8:10 Luke asked if he could take a bath. Why sure. Good idea. So now picture him at 8:14, lying in repose in the bath and lazily squirting water in the air, while I finish the lunches and then realize, hmm, that's funny: it's the sound of familiar kids walking out in front of our house. It's almost as if school was starting at ... 8:15!!!! Because it's Wednesday and school starts at 8:15, not 8:55, on Wednesdays!!!

The soundtrack to the next 30 seconds went something like this, "LUKE - GET OUT OF THE TUB! Getoutgetoutgetout!!! Clothes! Any clothes! Clothesclothesclothes! Now shoes! Shoes! And we're going! GOGOGOGOGOGO!!!" Scheduling FAIL. Preparedness FAIL.

I could go on and on like this except it would probably get a little monotonous. Let me just wrap up with a happier story about tonight: I had to drop something off at a neighbor's house, about three blocks away, and the boys were gearing up for post-dinner crankiness. As it started to get darker and darker I had an idea: haul out the glowsticks. So we marched down the street, each of us brandishing a light saber, waving it menacingly in front of trees and bushes that happened to cross our paths, and we made it safely and happily over to the neighbor's house. Glowsticks FTW.

About Face *updated with cuter pic

Announcing the new...the improved...the "it was there all along but we just couldn't see it" cuteness of Mr. Zach. ("Z for Zach," he calls himself, proud to be able to identify his favorite letter of the alphabet.) The long-haired plan just didn't work out. Dave really wanted to hold out for a few more months until it got attractive; I reached the end of my rope with it about four months ago, somewhere around the time that the sunscreen and sweat set in. Apparently I was not alone: His teacher at school said happily on Tuesday, "Hey - only two more days until the haircut!"

Dave is completely stretched to the limit. He has been training for a marathon, coaching a soccer team, maintaining his blog, picking up the household slack for me when I work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and working triple-time to hold his Oregon campaign together until election day. Last Thursday there was a concert at the Hollywood Bowl that he was dying to go to; so on Tuesday night when I climbed into bed I whispered into his ear, "I think you should go on Thursday night." The next morning he looked at me and said, "Do you really think I should go to Oregon on Thursday night?" (What?!!?) It was then that we realized he truly needed a break, so he went ahead to the concert and had a great time.

Now I have a dirty little secret to share: Work is actually fun. My Tuesdays and Thursdays in the office are actually kind of cool in a way that I didn't experience before. People are appreciative of the work I am doing, and they pamper me with meals and treats. It is entirely different from being at home where small people are unappreciative and demand me to give them meals and treats. So it's a fun break, and working just on Tuesdays and Thursdays is the perfect balance. I wouldn't want to do any more at this point because I want to be home with the boys, but hey - it's nice to be appreciated every once in a while.

Oh, and another little thing - I ran the hometown 10K on Saturday. I have to say this is a town that really loves its fitness. There were 3,600 runners in the race, out of a town of 30,000 people, so almost one out of every eight people in town ran the race. I came in 137th out of a whopping 243 in my age group (women age 40-44). But who cares about the time, really? I had a good time and felt good doing it.

Later that day was Luke's soccer game and then the hometown fair, at which Luke and I worked in the booth for his school. As a thank you to the mom volunteers, the organizer set us up with 10-minute foot massages at a swanky local salon. So after our shift, I dragged Luke back downtown and he dutifully sat and waited while I got my toes deftly kneaded and rubbed. When it was over, I pried one eye open and gave the man a big thumbs up, after which he smiled and proceeded to work on my hands for a few more minutes. (This is an unrelated but gratuitously cute picture of Luke holding one of the dogs up for adoption at the fair.)

Later I brought Luke and Zach back to the fair and we got two more fish (that's right - more fish). They are two friendly little goldfish that the boys named Rocky and Joe. I have rarely seen Zach's tender, protective instinct come out as fiercely as it has with these fish. He took control of their little tank almost immediately, and very carefully carried it through the park and all the way to the car, then held it in his lap for the ride home. In this (pre-haircut) picture he appears to be giving his best Don Corleone look that says, "You wanna mess with these fish? You're gonna have to mess with me!" I told him how proud I was of how well he took care of the fish, and apparently this struck an important chord for him, because he has been asking me repeatedly to tell him again how well he took care of the fish.

So I guess it goes without saying that this was not meant to last. Joe the Fish apparently died last night and (shhh!) before the boys knew about it Dave ran off to the pet store to get a replacement. I still don't think either one of these fish has much time left on this earth, but miracles have been known to happen. Or who knows, maybe we'll adopt a dog to take their minds off the fish.

Deeply flawed

Every now and then we have one of those rare moments when the boys are filled with love for each other and just can't stop hugging and kissing. Usually those periods are followed by sharp, heavy blows to each other's bodies. But this time at least I caught the happy time on camera. This also marked the first time both boys went in the pool without me (I was sitting on the edge taking pictures) and I guess since Zach likes having something to hang on to, he decided that Luke was the next best thing.

Zach is absolutely loving his "new big kids school" a.k.a. the three-year-old class. He holds tightly onto his baby kitten throughout the day, yet each day he comes back reporting that he has been having a great time. I thought all was hunky-dory until the teacher told me last Thursday that he had bitten another kid. Biting? I guess I just associate biting with the worst of the worst - the kids with serious behavioral issues. But fortunately the teacher (who has known him since he was born) is gentle, philosophical, well-trained, and empathetic; and she's been working with and watching him closely. At home, Zach will suddenly declare out of the blue, "I will not bite or hit my friends anymore," or sometimes, "Teeth are for food!" and so far, no more biting. But every now and then when Zach says, "I love my friends at school!" Dave and I give each other a look and we each know that we're mentally finishing his sentence with our own private joke: "...because they're so delicious!"

Luke is also having a great time in school, and appears to be doing quite well. So far he is the only kid in the class to ace all of the spelling tests, and he's having fun with the reading and the math. But then his teacher told me yesterday, "He's a little bit of a mystery to me. Sometimes I am not sure if I'm getting through to him - he seems like he's daydreaming a lot, or just in his own little world. Is he like that at home?" Um, well, we do call him the Absent-Minded Professor. And just after that we got into the car to go pick up Zach, and Luke discovered once we got there that he only had his socks on and no shoes. "Where exactly did you think we were going when you got in the car?" I asked him, after he claimed not to have known. Theories abound as to this behavior: He's a dreamer; he's bored; his brain is roasted from the DS... Is there a problem? His teacher says we are going to watch it, but for now I'm going to come down on the side of "dreamer."

What I'm trying to say is that even though these boys may appear to be significantly flawed on the surface, I have a little secret, which is that they are in fact, absolutely perfect. To me. That's why even though there is plenty more to say on various educational, financial, medical, and developmental issues; I will just leave it at this, with a picture of two brothers mugging and hugging, and having a great time being perfect/not-perfect together.

Fixins

Not sure what to do while Dave is off on a long run? Never fear; I've found the recipe:

Boy Entertaining Stew (serves 2)

Bunch of sticks
Clump of rocks
Several heavy logs
Waterfall
2 ponds
15 hungry koi fish
1/2 cup fish pellets
5 shy turtles
10 vocal ducks
2 bottles of water
2 cups grapes
2 corn dog muffins
Preheat outdoors to 70 degrees. Add sunshine. Mix all ingredients together in large wilderness park, being careful to keep boys separated. Dispose of all trash in appropriate containers. Repeat.

Playthings

If you happened to visit our house any time between March and August, you may have noticed an item on our white board shopping list, written in kid handwriting: "VCRAC." It stands for Venator-Class Republic Attack Cruiser, a monumentally large Lego set, and Luke wrote its initials up there in the hopes that someone would slip up while buying groceries and one of those would just happen to wind up in the shopping basket.

Well, it didn't happen that way, but the fact that it's been up there illustrates just how long Luke has been yearning for this thing. At some point we got him focused on the idea of working toward a long-term goal, and for the last several months, he has been squirreling his money away. Dave set up a few ground rules for him for summer drink sales (limited number, you must pay for your own supplies, etc); and on Memorial Day, July 4th, Labor Day, and a few other summer weekends, Luke relentlessly hawked his cold drinks down at the beach for $1 apiece.

Five months and $119 later, he finally reached his goal. (If you think about five months, it's really kind of a long time for a little guy like him to save up for something - 6 percent of his life to be exact.) Dave even helped him find a VCRAC on eBay - for $10 less than the ToysRUs price - so he was especially proud to get a bargain.

Needless to say when it arrived in the mail yesterday it was a cause for much rejoicing. Luke invited his friend Shane over to help with the ceremonial unpacking and Lego organizing. We set up a table for him down in the office, and now he is deep in the building phase.

I don't have high hopes for the future of this creation, given the tendency of expensive Lego sets to get destroyed in our house. But I am incredibly impressed with how patient he was (for a 6-year-old) over such a long time to hold out for something really special. I just hope it lasts long enough for him to enjoy it while he saves up for the next big thing.

Zach is on an involuntary leave from school, and it's been a real pain in the... Well, let's put it this way: Zach had an odd rash on his bottom. When they cultured it they found that it was MRSA, so he was effectively banned from preschool until it heals. I know he's enjoyed his time at home, but I also know that the infection has been incredibly painful, based on its location, and based on some of the things the doctor had to do to try to cure it. Oh, and he has an ear infection to boot. So even though it's been massively inconvenient (and expensive) for us to manage this while I attempt to start a new job, I have nothing but sympathy for the little guy. He's probably been in extreme misery.

On the first day it was diagnosed, after an excruciating doctor's visit, I took him to the CVS and while we waited for a prescription I told him he could pick out a toy. The first one he picked out was $24.99 and I had to backpedal, "I didn't mean that kind of toy." After several rounds of negotiations, he finally settled on a smaller toy that was $18.99, and by that point I was worn down enough to say OK. But just as we were about to check out, he saw a very small kitten in a stuffed animal display. He tossed aside the other toy, grabbed the kitten (only $3.99 - woo-hoo!) and literally has not put the kitten down since.

Considering that he has, oh, I don't know, about a thousand other stuffed animals, I don't know why the kitten has such a hold on him. (On Monday at the wilderness park, Zach fed the fish, climbed over rocks and logs, and dangled his feet in an ice-cold stream, all with the kitten tucked safely under his arm.) I think there must be something about the uncertainty of pain or illness where you look for whatever reliable comfort you can find, and in the kitten he has found a small, portable comfort zone. Come to think of it, I should have bought three or four of them as backup for the day when he inevitably loses the kitten or leaves it at the edge of a stream somewhere. I've learned that when a boy has his mind set on a certain toy, nothing else will do.

Round Two

The other day we were at a park and while Luke was playing soccer with his teammates, Zach somehow got clobbered with the ball. There was lots of crying and a tiny bit of blood on his lip, so we took him to our friend's house next door, where she made a little ice pack and held it gently up against his mouth. He sat there quietly with tears pooled in his eyes, until she lifted off the ice pack. Then he wiped away a tear, turned his little face up to her and said, "Can I see your water heater?"

Ladies and gentlemen (or "Ladies and mans," as Zach might say), we have another hazard light situation on our hands.

I think we're going to have to blame my dad for starting this one. He got Zach fascinated with the whole idea of having two water heaters in the basement. I think there's also the attraction of water going through pipes, and a plumbing system that is somehow related to the toilet. Exhibit A: Zach needed to visit the water heater several times during a visit to Grandma Bobbie and Granddad's house. Exhibit B: When he's going to sleep, he likes to run through the list of neighbors to talk about where their water heaters are located. Exhibit C: When I was reading "Old MacDonald Had A Farm" to him this morning, he was concerned because the illustration of the farmhouse did not include a picture of the water heater. Exhibit D (pictured): We were at the beautiful beachfront in Santa Barbara and instead of checking out the scenery he wanted to stay and listen to the water rushing through the pipes. (OK, Luke did too, but they're boys; what can I say?) The other day Luke was teasing him and told him that we had "water heater lollipops" for dessert, but now the problem is that Zach is continuing to look for them.

Oh, and Luke started first grade last week. How does he like it? Who are his new friends? How does he like his teacher? What do they do during the day? I don't really have good answers to these questions. After school he runs off with his friends and he hasn't spent much time on reflection. (This is basically a good thing, by the way, even though I'm dying for more information.) Also Zach started in the 3-year-old class, and two out of 10 boys are named Cassius. Go figure.

The other day I cleared off Luke's shelf in his bedroom, and besides finding a dollar and a months-old peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I found his long-lost magic wand. So on Sunday night at Grandma Bobbie and Granddad's house, Luke decided to put on a magic show. More accurately, he decided to "manage" a magic show, which involved directing his assistants to fall asleep or stop talking at the flick of a wand.

Luke was getting so much attention and applause that Zach decided to tell a story of his own. The story ended with, "...and then he fell into the...toilet!" When the story was met with awkward silence, Zach was undaunted. "Laugh about that!" he commanded the group. Another manager in the house. Great.